Edgeworth's Coat Mishap
by Mentality at its Worst
Summary: In the general eye, one might have felt sympathy for the circus’s new performer for missing his turn three blocks earlier. Another might have disgustedly pointed down the street in the other direction and said, “The gay bar is just down the way.”


* * *

Another oneshot, brought to you folks by yours truly. This idea came from…I have no clue where. 

There are no pairings, and this fic may not make any sense to you if you haven't played _Justice For All_, at least past episode three.

* * *

**Edgeworth's Coat Mishap**

The day had started just like any other; the glass doors of the precinct opened wide as the scraggly detective, Dick Gumshoe, bumbled in. He hugged his paper cup half-filled with coffee closely to him; one could only judge by the large, wet stain on his already dirty coat that he had spilt the other half on himself while making his way to work. In his usual, good-naturedly way, he smiled and nodded politely in greeting to his colleagues as he found his way to his desk. Slumping into his chair, he began fumbling through papers which he had forgotten to hand in to the chief the day before.

"I'm sure I could try slipping them under his door...I wonder if he's in yet…" he mumbled, shifting his eyes warily to make sure he would not be seen.

His thoughts were then broken by the sound of stifled giggles, coming in all directions. He tried to ignore them, but they steadily became more audible until finally a voice rang out through the room.

"I don't know _what_ you're all waiting for; just laugh already!" It was clearly Mr. Edgeworth's voice. Following his invitation to do so, at least three bold people in the room erupted into laughter.

Leaping to his feet, Gumshoe spun around a corner with the hope of greeting Edgeworth at the front door. The detective, however, stopped abruptly upon rounding the corner and stared with a set of wide, bewildered eyes at the sight before him. At the end of the room, all eyes on him, was Mr. Edgeworth injected with his usual haughtiness…

His suit, on the other hand, was a bit more…_elaborate_ than usual. It hung low, with what appeared to be a cape billowing behind him as he strode past the gawking police force; it was a deep violet colour with very intricate patters and other such nameless but lustrous decorations. In the general eye, one might have felt sympathy for the circus's new performer for missing his turn three blocks earlier; another might have disgustedly pointed down the street in the other direction and said, "The gay bar is just down the way." Gumshoe just produced a big grin and hoped it would be enough to keep him from laughing himself as he marched toward Edgeworth.

"Hehe, good morning, Mr. Edgeworth. Your suit…it's…it's a bit eccentric today--"

"Save it, Detective," Edgeworth snapped and Gumshoe obeyed. His lip curled as he scanned the room, staring at anyone who made eye contact with him until they felt uncomfortable enough that they finally directed their attention back to their work. He then tugged awkwardly at the sleeves of the coat he wore, stepping closer to Gumshoe so he could lower his voice to an almost whisper.

"There was…a bit of a 'mix-up' at the dry cleaners," he murmured and Gumshoe nodded with empathy.

Sunlight crept through a window to the lodging house of the Big Berry Circus. Though it gave the room a pleasant, cheerful aura, the silence of the still, young man standing opposite of the window would have been enough to kill a person with anxiety. In his hands he held a plastic package which had not much of an opening near the top; he did not need to haul out what was inside the package to know that it was wrong. Nothing that was _that_ hideous colour (was it burgundy? How atrocious!) could have been his.

Gracefully he tossed it to the side, turning up his nose away from it and flipping his hand as though it were a fan trying to deter toxic fumes. At long last, he let out an aggravated sigh.

"Oh…this is _not_ fabulous."

* * *

I do not wish to hear anything about the "actual" design of Max Galactica's outfit…because frankly, I could care less. Don't get me wrong, I like the guy, but I find that would be something utterly inane to even bother wasting a review on. 

Yes, it was horrifically short. If you all bear with me, I do have a couple of chaptered fics on the brain that I will tend to once university grants me the time. In the meantime, I have plenty of oneshots in the works. Good day, and no flames or they will be ridiculed.

* * *


End file.
